Maulever Hall (38 page)

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Without you”—she looked up at him—“everything.”

For a long moment, their eyes met and held. Then, slowly, like the beginning of day, his smile transformed his face. He bent toward her. “So much for pride,” he said.

They were roused from a kiss that should have been endless by the Duchess’s voice from behind them. “Very satisfactory,” she said.

Marianne turned, still in the safe compass of his arms, to smile at her friend. “Would you say that I was sufficiently compromised so he must marry me?”

“Oh, amply. If he needs compulsion, which I doubt. Besides, Mr. Mauleverer, you should remember that my poor Marianne must get herself an heir, or go in daily fear of murder by that ingenious cousin of hers.”

Mauleverer smiled down at Marianne. “My love fears nothing,” he said, “except cockroaches, God bless her. But—I could do with an heir myself.”

“Mauleverer of Maulever Hall?” Loving laughter trembled in her voice.

He shook her, just a little, gently. “And I thought you would never tease me again, my shrew.”